


Pinions

by Laylah



Category: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Action/Adventure, Backstory, M/M, Origin Story, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 03:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three of them balance each other, complete each other. They might not have anyone else, might not have a plan or a clear idea where they came from or why, but they have each other, and that's more than they could have.</p><p>[Advent Children but not the rest of the compilation]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pinions

At first there's only the dark, and the cold. Then, sometimes, there's the song of the Planet, but it's faint and doesn't ever last for long. He opens his eyes, one of the times the song stops, and discovers that not everything is dark. There's light, faint and green, and it seems to come from nowhere, which bothers him. He thinks light should come from somewhere, though he's not sure why. But it's one of the things he knows, like the fact that he grips things with his hands and kicks with his feet. The names are already there, and the actions; the certainty that this is a rock and that is a light and this is a dragon, and he should play with the dragon until it dies, because otherwise it will hurt him.

So he fights dragons and wonders where the light comes from, and sits on the rocks by the edge of the -- "The deep green sea," he says aloud after a moment's thought, and the sound of his own voice surprises him. It's different than he would have expected, but he's not sure how or why.

He shouldn't be alone. He knows this the way he knows that the green light should have a source. He's big and strong so that he can play hard, and there should be someone who needs him to. Someone almost like him but not quite.

He doesn't know what to do, all by himself. He climbs the rocks in the cave, and plays with the dragons when he finds them. When he gets hungry, he drinks from the deep green sea, and when he gets tired, he curls into a ball and closes his eyes. He's waiting for something, he thinks. He'll know what it is when it happens.

-

_He ached, all the way through, and he felt sick inside. He always got Cures after he had his shots, and they made him better, but only sort of. The bad taste in the back of his mouth would still stay, and the feeling like his stomach was full of bugs. _

_He closed his eyes tight to keep from crying, and pulled the blanket up to his chin, and thought about the other experiments. That was something one of the nurses had said to another one a few days ago: Are you feeding the other experiments today? _

_The other nurse had shushed the first one with a warning look, and they hadn't mentioned it again. _

_But he thought about that a lot. Other experiments. Like him, with hair as pale and silvery as the surface of the examining table, and eyes that worked best in the dark. There'd be one who was bigger and stronger than he was, big enough to fight back when they wanted to give him the shots, and he'd be called_

-

Loz wakes up and he knows that the thing he's waiting for has happened. He gets up and looks around, but nothing looks different. He can feel it, though, the difference in the air or in him or -- something. That's what's important. If it's not here, he'll just have to go look for it.

He climbs down the rocks to the deep green sea, and ignores the not-very-helpful feeling in the back of his head that this isn't really a sea at all and he should have a better name for it. He likes this name. He likes how it sounds.

The rocks are slippery, because they're always wet, but Loz is used to it by now. He follows the edge of the deep green sea and the same part of him that knows where to find the weak spot in a dragon's neck also knows that this is called scouting a perimeter. It must be something he's supposed to do. Those are the things he knows the most words for.

He does know it when he finds it, just like he thought he would. There's someone floating in the green water, near the rocks, face up. He's covered in black leather the way Loz is, and his long silver hair floats around him like -- like something Loz _doesn't_ have words for.

But it feels right for him to be here, for him to look like this, so Loz wades out into the water and picks him up. The man is heavier than he looks, but still easy for Loz to carry, and holding him feels good, not like something familiar but like something Loz has always wanted without really knowing it.

He sits down carefully on the bank, cradling the man in his lap, and waits. When the man is mostly dry, Loz pets his hair, feeling how soft it is. He likes the feeling. It makes him warm inside, and makes the shifting worry in the back of his head less strong.

Eventually the man stirs, leaning into Loz's touch. He opens his eyes and they're beautiful, pale icy green with slitted pupils like the dragons', clear and focused.

"Hello," Loz says. "What's your name?"

-

_Yazoo would be good at this, he thought. It was a new kind of training today, with a kind of heavy long-barreled handgun, and he didn't like it much. It was too distant, and took too much stillness. He liked motion much better -- he got enough of holding still when he was being examined or treated or just left in his room at night. He liked training with the sword, because then he got to move, and his instructors told him he was graceful and talented at it, and it felt good, the big steps and sweeping motions. _

_But he never got out of training or treatment or examinations just by not wanting them or not being good at them. So he pretended Yazoo was standing beside him, another experiment who was good at being precise and -- what was Dr. Gast's word? -- analytical, and he made it a contest. He wouldn't use the gun anymore when it was up to him, but he would do it right when he had to._

-

It's better once Yazoo is there. Loz shows him how to play with the dragons, and at first he's not as good at it, but he says that just means he should practice. He's not as strong as Loz, they discover, but he's fast and clever, and they come up with a system where Yazoo gets a dragon's attention and drives it crazy with wanting to hit him, so that Loz has an easy time reaching the weak spot. Sometimes Loz takes longer than he needs to so that he can watch Yazoo move. If Yazoo knows, he doesn't say.

Then as they're exploring the caves, they find a shining green stone with light inside it. "Oh," Loz says, reaching out to pick it up. It tingles against his fingers, and he knows it must have a good name, but he can't think what it is.

"Materia," Yazoo says, and Loz smiles, because it's the right name, and that's a relief, like being able to scratch something that itches. "Are you going to use it, brother?"

"You can have it," Loz says. He likes when Yazoo calls him brother, and besides, he's not sure what he would do with it.

Yazoo smiles, and reaches out to take the materia from his hand. There's a moment, when they're both touching it, where Loz isn't sure where he ends and Yazoo begins, or even if there is any difference. Then he lets go and is just Loz again, instead of Loz-and-Yazoo-and-maybe-someone-else. Yazoo puts the materia against his arm and pushes, and it hisses and steams a little as it sinks right in. Loz can't help laughing, because he's amazed.

The next time they find a dragon, Yazoo stretches out his hand and makes it catch fire. It roars, and Loz feels the heat wash his face for just a second before he jumps. He misses his first pass at trying to take it down, and Yazoo makes fire again. It's _good_, Loz knows; it's what materia is for, that and other wonderful things, and he's glad that Yazoo is here to use it, because that way he can still just get in close and use his fists.

When they get tired they find a place to curl up again, and Loz is a little surprised that Yazoo leans against him instead of finding his own spot. It feels right, though, warm and comfortable, so Loz puts an arm around him to keep him there.

"We're still waiting, aren't we?" Loz asks.

Yazoo nods. He rests his head on Loz's shoulder. "There's something we have to do," he says. "But I don't know what it is. So we wait for the one who does."

"Okay." Yazoo sounds certain that things will be okay, that someone else _will_ come to them -- was that the extra feeling when they held the materia together? -- so Loz doesn't worry too much. He reaches up and pets Yazoo's hair again, like he did when he first found his brother.

Yazoo makes a quiet sound in his throat, and sighs. It sounds like a contented sigh, and Loz feels warmer inside because of it.

"Is this right?" Loz asks, because he thinks it is -- he likes how it makes him feel, warm and safe and strong -- but he doesn't feel very certain of how it should go or what it should be called.

"I think so," Yazoo says. "Yes. It's good." He pushes back into Loz's hand, and Loz kneads the muscles in his neck, right below the base of his skull. He feels so delicate compared with Loz, but Loz is careful and Yazoo only makes more of those soft happy noises.

Then he puts his arm around Loz's waist, not tightly, just so it feels nice, and Loz makes the happy sound too, without really meaning to. Being brothers is definitely not one of the things that he already knows, but he likes learning it. They'll rest now, and maybe after that they'll find

-

_"Kadaj," he murmured to himself, drawing out the final consonant into a hiss of menace. _

_"What?" asked the orderly in charge, pausing with the door half-closed. _

_"Nothing," he snapped, lifting his head, leaning against the back wall of the tank and staring until the orderly looked away. He didn't really believe in the other experiments anymore, didn't really think that in another lab down the hall there was a boy named Kadaj going in for **his** second mako treatment, too -- but the stories he'd made up about them were his own. He'd never told anyone, not the orderlies who tried to pretend they were his friends or the doctors who interviewed him to evaluate his mind. The stories were still his secret. _

_And they helped. He closed his eyes as the level of the mako rose, blood-warm and thick, bubbling up from below his feet. Kadaj, he told himself, was feral, an experiment going out of control. Kadaj would savage the handlers instead of submitting to the treatments. _

_The story wasn't true, and it didn't get him out of the tube any faster. But it made him feel better all the same._

-

Yazoo wakes up first, and for a second he feels trapped. Then he realizes that it's only Loz holding him, curled around him protectively, and he doesn't need to fight that. He can't relax, though; he can feel another presence out there, somewhere in the luminous space of the cave: another who is like them but not.

"Loz," he says softly, shaking his brother's shoulder. "Wake up."

Loz wakes as quickly as if he's just been waiting for the command, his eyes snapping open, pupils narrowing as he adjusts to the cave's constant light. "Is he here?"

"Near here," Yazoo says. "Somewhere." Saying it makes him more certain it's true, and the way hope brightens Loz's face is wonderful. He almost doesn't want to let go, but they have a third brother somewhere out there, waiting for them. He smiles at Loz. "Let's go find him."

It's not difficult. Their brother's presence is like a beacon, shining brighter than the fire materia that Yazoo still feels suspended inside his body. He leads the way down toward the lake, and he can feel Loz's presence right behind him, solid as a shield. Everything in the cave has some of that feeling, that energy -- Yazoo can feel the way the monsters move, what their regular paths are through the rocks; he can sense the currents of air, knows where there must be passages that go elsewhere. Loz is a solid point in the flow of that energy, thicker than the green water, heavier than materia. And now there's another one, a vortex of swirling power at the water's edge.

He's waiting for them when they arrive, standing in the shallow water, and it laps at his thighs. "Brothers," he says, reaching out to them with both hands.

Loz walks into the water without hesitation, and after a moment Yazoo follows. Their new brother is shorter, slender, his face still young, but his eyes burn bright and fierce. Loz kneels beside him and still comes up almost to his shoulder.

"We've been waiting for you," Loz says, sounding proud that they've done right and grateful that it's paid off. He looks up at Yazoo a second later, his expression worried, like he shouldn't have spoken for both of them.

Yazoo kneels too, feeling the ways he's anchored to both of them now, the balance among the three of them. "You know what it is we need to do," he says.

Their brother nods. "I do." He reaches down and cups his hands in the water, lifts it to his lips. When he has drunk, he offers water to Loz, then to Yazoo, smiling as they accept.

Loz relaxes visibly at the gesture, calm but alert. "Then...we stop waiting?"

"Yes." One hand on the back of Loz's neck, and the other against Yazoo's shoulderblade. "It's time to go."

-

_He looked up. The men who had come for him -- he'd heard the orderlies call them Turks, but the title meant nothing to him -- wore dark suits, not the white coats of the scientists, and there was no hunger in their faces when they looked at him. He wasn't sure he liked them, but it was a chance to see something outside the lab, outside the razor wire that fenced in the perimeter. _

_"I'm ready," he said. _

_"Don't you have a bag, or something?" one of them asked. _

_"Don't be stupid," the other one said. "Of course he doesn't." Then, to him, "Sorry about my partner. He's new. Doesn't really understand the company yet." _

_He shook his head. "You have done nothing for which I would require an apology." They both looked away when he studied them closely. Not so different from the people of the lab after all, even if their clothes were. _

_He followed them through the hallways, out through the series of security doors, listening to their explanations for why they were here now: that they had planned to wait another year, but now a war had broken out and they needed all the advantages they could get. He was a prototype, valuable, a gamble that they expected would pay off, and they were sorry to cut short his training. He didn't bother to point out that he was more than ready to leave the lab. _

_The last set of doors hissed open and they stepped outside, and he looked up into the bluest sky he'd ever seen._

-

It hurts their eyes, it's so bright. Loz cringes back from it, grimacing. "Let's go back," he says. "I don't like it out here."

"No." Kadaj shades his eyes with his hand, studying the landscape. "We can't go back yet. There are things we need to know."

Loz sucks in air in what sounds like the beginning of a sob. His face twists.

"Don't cry," Yazoo says. He reaches out and rests his hand on Loz's shoulder. Loz feels solid under his hand, and he strokes gently until the hissing static in Loz's energy smoothes out, too. Kadaj looks at him like he's worked a minor miracle, and Yazoo nods.

"Shall we go?"

Outside their cave it's cold, the ground slicked with shining ice or buried under drifts of deep white snow. Neither is ideal terrain; they slip on the ice, and the snow slows them down. But they persevere, because Kadaj has a plan, and Loz and Yazoo have been waiting for that.

Occasionally they stray off the main path, because Yazoo can feel the dense burn of power that means there's a materia nearby. The first time, he's mildly surprised that the others don't notice, but Loz doesn't seem perturbed and Kadaj only smiles faintly and says, "Show me."

The more materia they find, the faster they manage to dispatch the monsters that are stupid enough to attack them. More speed and strength for Loz, fire and lightning for Kadaj, healing and the golden clarity of a deathblow for Yazoo. They fight well together, even without planning -- Yazoo isn't sure how the others experience it, but for him it's like the tide, their energy pulling at him and washing through his limbs.

And then they fight the dire hound, a beast bigger and more vicious than the dragons he and Loz fought in the cave, its broad shoulders armored and its whipcord tail lashing as it bellows its challenge. None of them even consider retreating. They dart and lunge, dodging the swipes of massive claws, silent but for the little growls of pleasure that Loz makes when he lands a solid hit. It's Kadaj's lightning that fells the beast eventually, sends it crashing to the ground in a splay of twitching limbs.

"Help me," Yazoo says when the beast goes still at last, climbing up onto the carcass.

"What is it, brother?" Kadaj asks, as Loz joins him on the dire hound's broad back.

"It has something we can use," Yazoo says. He doesn't know how he knows, but the certainty is bright and shining red in his mind. He takes hold of one of the armor plates, and Loz does likewise, and they _pull_ until the thing comes apart. When it comes open, the scent of salt and iron is so thick it's dizzying. Their hands slip on its fluids, but Yazoo isn't deterred; this stuff isn't so different from the green water that gave life to them all. Loz pries two of the monster's ribs free of its spine and Yazoo reaches into the body cavity, pushing aside the collapsing sludge of lung to find his prize, the shining scarlet globe cradled by the muscle of the heart.

"Here," he says, holding it up. The fluids on his arm steam in the cold air.

Kadaj licks his lips, scaling the creature's foreleg to take the materia from Yazoo's hand. "It's beautiful," he says, reaching into it as soon as he touches it, making it hum, so that Yazoo can feel the echoes of trapped souls swirling inside.

"Shall we try it?" Kadaj asks, and the red materia sinks into his flesh with no resistance at all.

Yazoo nods, and Loz smiles in anticipation. Kadaj looks out over the wasteland, raising his hand to the sky. Shadows boil up out of the cold ground, wisps of black curling into shape, desire given form and substance, coalescing into

-

_The shadow creeper hit the ground with a wet thud, and its sundered parts began to melt. He allowed himself a small smile, out here in the vanguard, in the twilight, where nobody would see. He had finally found a sword that felt right in his hands, and he'd been turned loose here to really fight, for once. They'd landed on the beach south of here, the only place they could make a decent approach without being swarmed before they reached the shore, and now it was his job to lead the troops up through the mountain passes to the city of Wutai itself -- through traps and enemy encampments and god only knew how many more summoned monsters. _

_He raised a gauntleted hand to signal to the following troops to advance, and started up the mountain. By dawn he'd have them dug in halfway to the city even if he had to kill everything that breathed between here and there. His hands curled around Masamune's hilt, and the sense of her perfect balance made him smile a second time. Nothing could stop him now._

-

The blade glitters in the bright cold light of the sun, and Kadaj hears himself laughing before he's realized he's going to. All three of them have weapons now, have traded the hides and horns and teeth of their kills for enough money to buy what struck their fancy from Icicle's weapon master: two silvered, long-bladed guns, the blunt brutal weight of Loz's Dual Hound, and the gleaming ribbon of steel that is Kadaj's new sword. It feels as though he's been waiting to wield it since before he even rose from the water, since before he drew breath. He has always wanted this.

His brothers watch him expectantly, and he smiles at them. "Let's see what we can find, shall we?"

It's simple -- Kadaj's mind supplies the phrase _child's play_, but he doesn't remember where he learned it -- for Loz to break the lock that holds shut the door that caught their interest. All of them recognize the symbol on the keep-out order, the name ShinRa Electric Company. Loz keeps his hands balled into tight fists as they enter, and Yazoo's stance is wary.

Everything in the house is almost familiar, nagging at Kadaj's mind like the ache where a materia has been removed. His hands hover over surfaces, stroke buttons, drum impatiently against the table as he watches the half incomprehensible video records that one of ShinRa's biologists left behind. Time is slipping away, and the sense that he's missing something important infuriates him.

"This isn't helping, is it?" Yazoo asks.

Kadaj fights down the urge to snap at him, to spit in frustration. "No," he says. "This doesn't tell me anything about what we need to do _now_."

"Maybe," Loz says hesitantly, "the answer isn't here."

"Maybe not," Kadaj agrees. He picks up a flask from the table and throws it at the wall, but the breaking glass doesn't help his nerves as much as he wants it to. "What do we do, then?"

"You lead," Yazoo says, closing the book he's been studying and standing up. "And we follow. We have all the time in the world."

Kadaj swallows hard. "You're sure?"

Yazoo nods, calm and still as the surface of the water they all rose from, and Loz waits, impassive and stable as the mountains they climbed down.

"Then let's go," Kadaj says. "I'm tired of ice."

They steal the motorcycles from a group of bounty hunters who are staying at the inn. There are four of them, which is one too many, and means there could be pursuit. Loz protests at the idea of destroying the fourth bike, though, so Yazoo goes inside. There are four shots, and then an upstairs window shatters and Yazoo lands lightly on the packed snow.

"They won't pursue," he says, holstering his gun.

Kadaj nods, and throws a leg over his bike. The engines roar to life, loud and hungry, and the three of them leave Icicle behind in a blur of wind and noise. Yazoo is right, Kadaj thinks. They won't find what they need in the old records of men who are their inferiors. What they need is to go someplace where he can think, where the echoes of hate and desire in the back of his mind will be loud enough for him to make them out clearly. He has his brothers to help him, and that should be enough.

He can almost feel them, as though they are extensions of himself, his right and left hands. As though they're all one being, legs wrapped tight around the growl of machinery, leaning into the wind. Hunting.

-

_Even in SOLDIER there was nobody who could match him, which was where the promotions came from. He was no commander, but the military needed to acknowledge his competence as a killer somehow. It made the regular troops even more awed and awkward around him, but it also meant that he had to interact with them less, which was some small blessing. _

_The rest of the SOLDIER corps helped to insulate him. They had all been through their share of procedures, felt the burn and nausea of the injections, known the disorientation of having to relearn their bodies' capabilities every time the treatments made them freshly alien. None of them had been raised by the company the way he had, nor begun their training as young, but it was enough for some common ground. They treated him as like them, only more so. _

_And one of them did more than that._

-

They don't stop for dark -- they don't need to. They can see just fine, and Kadaj is starting to feel like he knows where he's going. So they ride on into the night, until at last they find the city, still and silent and gleaming white as bone in the moonlight.

"Here," Kadaj says, when they get off the bikes. "We should stay here."

Neither Yazoo nor Loz questions it. The three of them leave their bikes and go exploring on foot, wading through cold water and climbing limestone-chalk paths to find shelter inside a huge hollow shell. There are still traces of habitation here, faint tracks through the dust and old furniture not yet decayed with time.

"I don't like this place," Loz says, his voice oddly hushed, nervous.

"Scared?" Kadaj asks. He doesn't mean it to sound as contemptuous as it does.

Loz hunches his shoulders defensively. "No." He's lying, and he's not good at it. Kadaj glances at Yazoo and they both reach out to comfort their brother with touch. If things were only a little different, Kadaj thinks he might feel angry that closeness could affect him so much.

But they're all the same, their needs and fears and loss, and that somehow makes it all right. "It's okay," he tells Loz, sliding under his arm and pressing close, watching as Yazoo rubs his face against Loz's shoulder like -- the word escapes him for a minute, though he's sure he knows it. Like a cat, he thinks, and feels a little surge of triumph at knowing.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," Yazoo murmurs, looking at Kadaj as if he needs to hear it confirmed.

"No," Kadaj agrees, "nothing at all." He feels Loz relax against him, feels the tension ebb out of his own shoulders in response, and when he looks over, Yazoo's face is alert, expectant. For a second Kadaj isn't sure what comes next, and then like the flourish at the end of a sword stroke he _knows_, can feel what's right. He cups Yazoo's cheek with his free hand and stretches up, steadying himself against Loz's chest, for a kiss.

Yazoo's mouth is warm, and his tongue meets Kadaj's without hesitation. Loz is the one who makes noise, though, a quiet, shocked moan as he holds on tighter. It makes Kadaj that much more certain that he's doing the right thing, and he kisses harder, bruising his lips against the hardness of Yazoo's teeth. Yazoo tastes like the green water, like the tang of using materia, like coming home.

"Brothers," Loz whispers, his tone reverent and hopeful and pleading. Kadaj moans, the word going straight to his cock, and when they break the kiss Yazoo's lips glisten with spit. Yazoo doesn't speak, just turns his head to kiss Loz as Kadaj watches them. They're the same, tall and pale and beautiful, and also different, Loz's stark angles against Yazoo's sleek curves. The three of them balance each other, complete each other. They might not have anyone else, might not have a plan or a clear idea where they came from or why, but they have each other, and that's more than they could have. More than -- more than -- there's a thought tugging at the corners of his mind, something that won't quite resolve into a real memory, and he pushes it away irritably. There'll be time for everything else later.

Right now, he squirms in between them, their bodies warm on either side of his, and pushes Loz backward, toward the first of the beds along the wall. Loz goes easily, letting Kadaj move him, and his pupils dilate with need and pleasure when Kadaj reaches down to tug at the zipper of his pants.

They don't need to speak to communicate; Kadaj can read his brothers' movements like they're his own, needs only the soft pressure of his hands to coax Loz into lying back across the bed and spreading his legs for Kadaj to kneel between them. The mattress dips again, Yazoo's weight settling behind him as Kadaj peels back the leather of Loz's pants and looks down.

His brother's cock is thick and hard, straining for his touch, and when he strokes gloved fingertips up the underside of the shaft, Loz shivers. Kadaj licks his lips. "Like this," he says, but it's a question, as he leans down to taste.

"_Yes_," Loz says, his thighs trembling, his back arching, and Kadaj presses down on the sharp ridges of his hipbones to hold him still and explore him more thoroughly. This is the first time they've done this together, the first time Kadaj has ever done this at all, but it doesn't feel strange -- when he licks at the drop of glistening fluid smeared across the head, and Loz shudders, Kadaj feels the same elation that came with absorbing his first materia.

He stretches his mouth wide, and finds that his eyes fall closed as he lets Loz's cock slide down his throat. Loz makes more lost and hungry noises, his hips rocking up against Kadaj's grip. It feels good, and when Yazoo's hands start to tug at his buckles and zippers, Kadaj helps, shifting as much as he can without letting Loz slip from his mouth. The air is cool against his skin, and Yazoo's gloves just slightly rough, tracing the lines of his ribcage and his spine.

"Kadaj," Loz says, sounding panicked. "I'm, I'm --"

Kadaj moans, and Yazoo says softly, "It's all right, Loz. Don't fight it," and leans forward over Kadaj to stroke Loz's face, and then Loz's cock pulses and heat floods Kadaj's mouth.

"Oh," Loz says, "oh. Oh, Kadaj. Brother." His voice shakes.

"Yes," Kadaj says, sitting up, planting one hand on Loz's chest and leaning in to kiss him. "Yes, my brother, yes." Loz's mouth is soft and yielding, his tongue brushing at Kadaj's lips to taste himself, and Yazoo's teeth sink into Kadaj's shoulder, and Kadaj shudders.

"Should I," Loz asks, running his hands down Kadaj's chest, over his stomach, "should I do it for you?"

Kadaj nods, leaning back into Yazoo's arms. "Yes," he says, and his voice comes out rough. "I want you so much." The words make Loz's face light up, and something warms through Kadaj's chest in response, so maybe that's reason enough to speak -- they don't need the words, but they make things better. He presses back, turning his head to nuzzle at Yazoo's chest. "And you, brother. What do you want?"

He feels Yazoo's hand moving against his spine, and hears the low hiss of a zipper, and then Yazoo's skin is pressed against his own, Yazoo's cock sliding in the crack of his ass. "Let me in," Yazoo murmurs.

Kadaj spreads his legs further, his hair falling in his face as he nods. He knows bodies aren't meant to do this, not easily, but he also knows that he's pushed three materia into his flesh in the last two days, straight through his skin, and letting his brother take him can't be _more_ difficult than that. Yazoo even tasted the same, green and tingling.

Still, his mouth falls open on a soft, shocked exhale when Yazoo fills him, and then he moans aloud when Loz leans down to suck his cock. He can't even move between them, just brace himself against the mattress and hold still, trembling, in their arms. He reaches out to rest one hand on the broad plane of Loz's back, and Loz moans around his cock as if he's grateful.

"Yes," Kadaj whispers, stroking Loz's hair instead, "yes, oh, my brothers -- so good," and he reaches back to rest his other hand against Yazoo's thigh. He's adjusting to them now, and he needs more. If he's careful and goes slowly he can move, rocking his hips just a little so that Loz and Yazoo find the same rhythm, fucking and sucking him together, and just the words make him shudder with pleasure, and the friction and fullness and wet heat are so right, need winding tighter low in his gut and when Yazoo says _now?_ low and close in his ear he thinks it might almost be a command instead of a question, but he answers, "Yes, now, _now_," and feels Yazoo bucking, surging into him, the hard thrusts driving him down Loz's throat, and in the instant he surrenders he thinks the three of them almost, almost merge into one.

-

_"What are you doing?" he asked. The air was close and warm, the scent of their...exertion...still thick in the room. _

_"Getting comfortable," Zack said with a little smile, throwing an arm over his waist and relaxing against the pillows. "You should try it sometime." _

_He couldn't help the confusion, and Zack had never faulted him for asking strange questions. "You want to stay here?" _

_Zack nodded, reaching up and petting his hair, smoothing it back from his face. "We're friends, aren't we?" _

_"I...I suppose we are," he agreed, and managed to return Zack's smile, if hesitantly. "Yes." _

_"Then let's get some sleep, right?" Zack burrowed closer, curled into the hollow of his shoulder, and he had to admit it felt pleasant. Soothing. "We've got to head out tomorrow for Nibelheim, and it's a long trip." _

_He nodded, and that seemed to settle things, but it was still...odd, and he lay awake in the dark for what felt like a long time, listening to Zack's breathing as it evened out with sleep._

-

Loz doesn't feel right about all of them sleeping at once. He doesn't think as fast as his brothers do, but there are some things he just knows, certain and solid, and one of them is that somebody should stay on guard. So it's fine that he's not really tired, that he recovered fastest from what they did together when they got here. They were all pretty shaky right when it was over, curled up together, and Kadaj was laughing at little things, at nothing at all, his smile bright and sharp and fast, just like him. He and Yazoo are still asleep, tangled up together, while Loz sits beside them and keeps watch.

Brothers. He has brothers now, and they take care of each other. Loz reaches out and pushes Yazoo's hair back from his face, rests his hand on Kadaj's shoulder.

Kadaj stirs in his sleep, shivering, his hands clenching on nothing. "Mother?" he whispers. His voice is fuzzy, not clear at all. "Mother...."

Loz waits, but Kadaj doesn't say anything else, doesn't wake up all the way. Maybe, Loz thinks, Kadaj is dreaming about what they should do next. Maybe in the morning he'll tell them about his dreams, and they can ride the motorbikes again. Loz smiles. Yes, that's how it should go: all three of them, out riding across the world. Together.


End file.
